


You should know where I'm coming from

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Each chapter will have a quote, Fluff, Gen, Rey Kenobi, modern day AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5692855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>You ought to know where I'm coming from,</i>
  <br/>
  <i>How I was alone when I burnt my home,</i>
  <br/>
  <i>And all of the pieces were torn and thrown,</i>
  <br/>
  <i>You should know where I'm coming from.</i>
</p><p>When they were young, they used to lie awake and dream together, but that was twelve years ago. In that time, where have their promises and ambitions taken them?</p><p>Formerly named Forget-me-not</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Castles in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Wouldn't it be fun if all the castles in the air we make could come true...?_
> 
> -Louisa May Alcott, _Little Women_

The taste of watermelon, moist and cold and sweet, had long imprinted itself on her tongue. Hazy recollections of days gone past- summer picnics and swimming in the lake and laying on the sand to fantasize about what they would become- oh, she misses it so.

She can see herself in her mind's eye, small and chubby and covered all over with freckles, messy brown hair cut into bangs and shoulder-length, with a crooked smile and taking on the world with the sheer force of exuberance.

She misses chasing after Poe's cat, Beebee, the orange ball of fur doing everything it can to thwart her as she falls over her own feet and Poe laughs and laughs until his sides ache, while she lies there and fumes silently until he feels too guilty about it all and helps her back up, an acorn or other woodland treasure he had scavenged transferring itself from his hand to hers.

She and Finn would play knights and gather together sticks, brandishing them with all the innocent bravado that was possible in the world and twirling around each other clumsily until they were both dizzy and landed smack on their bottoms on the ground, rolling around on the grass in giddy glee.

She misses how her papa always had such an exasperated look on his face when she had returned to him after a caper, hair a nest of brambles and cheeks smeared with dirt, before hugging her anyways, the widest and brightest grin on his face as he looked at his little girl.

Mama she missed for how she always let her knew she loved her- mama worrying when she stays out too late, fussing over every single one of her cuts and scrapes from escapades and kissing them better, crying when she is hurt or sad or angry, and holding her tight like she never wanted to let her baby go.

Poe's parents and Finn's parents were always glad to have her over and treated her like she was their own daughter, and that made her like them even more than she already did, which was a lot, and she still misses how Poe's mom would ruffle her hair a little, or how Finn's dad always had such funny jokes, or the amazing spaghetti Poe's dad makes, or the way that Finn's mom would listen that made you feel that she knew exactly how you were feeling.

The couple next door, Mrs. Leia and Mr. Han, were friends of her parents and old family friends going back to her grandpa's days and they were so nice to her- Mrs. Leia always brushed and put up her hair for her and loved to teach her interesting things like about how silly people were, and Mr. Han used to hold her above his head and make whooshing noises as they zoom around their loving room until she was too big to sit on his shoulders.

Heck, she even misses the piggyback rides that Mrs. Leia and Mr. Han used to make their son, Ben, give her. Ten years older than her, which makes him eight years older than Finn and seven years older than Poe, she remembers him as a hulking giant, sullen but compliant, not quite as fondly or gilded as the recollections of his parents and her friends. He always complained when she tugged her hair, but now, she would probably give just about anything for the company of anyone from those sheltered golden days, even him.

And oh, oh, how she aches for the castles in the sky they imagine, after they are so full of hamburgers and watermelon and pie that they could hardly budge a single inch and they lie down, shoulder to shoulder, and dream with their eyes and hearts open. As they grew up little by little, their goals and wishes and dreams had changed, but the palaces remained standing, loyal and constant as ever, tethering them to the promise that was tomorrow.

And when they spoke, and wove their palaces from their words and built them high enough, they would stay there, the cloud castles, delicate though they were, and never, ever turn to dust, because nothing could ever touch them.


	2. Dust and Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“If no one in the entire world cared about you, did you really exist at all?”_
> 
> -Cassandra Clare, _Clockwork Angel_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold on, guys. A thing just happened with this stupid touchscreen and I accidentally published this chapter. It wasn't supposed to be done yet. Just hang in there, guys, and admire my process of editing and stuff. Carry on my wayward sons and all that. Ok. I'll finish this asap and you all can read it then.
> 
> Update:  
> It's finally on, it's finally done. Tell me if there were any issues or errors, please!

She cried out with all the terror and sorrow one could possibly hold in one's voice, and her lungs gave out as if she were drowning, even though she was out on dry land. She screamed like she was being set ablaze and torn apart and it was so raw and primal of a reaction that once it was over, she had retreated deep, deep down into the recesses of herself and stayed there.

When it came time to face the outside world again, Rey was impeccable and as magnificent as the beams of sunlight for which she was named.

Her face was coated in a salty mask of tears and her throat was covered in sandpaper, chafing her from within, but the adults merely remarked upon how composed and quiet and brave she was. Her hands lay primly in her lap, clenched so tight that the knuckles became pearls, to stop them from shaking, but the adults only noted how well-behaved the little girl was acting.

Business partners of her parents, wartime friends of her parents, people from her parents' high school that she had never even heard of, they all came to express stiff and artificial condolences. It was all just too much, and when the ceremony was finally over, she had slammed the door to her room so hard that her prized piggy bank had fell off the shelf and shattered, and she had beat her fists uselessly into the walls until her knuckles had cracked with blood, and she had let out such animalistic screeches of sheer grief that she thought her breaths would finally be drawn and the mercy of death would overtake her.

But once the world came calling on her, she choked back tears and wiped clean the emotions from her face and obediently nodded and did whatever the grown ups told her to do, because she was a Kenobi and Kenobis do not lose themselves to the lure of madness and grief.

Han and Leia had been so kind to her and they still were, and so we're the parents of her best friends, all in their own ways, though even she, at eight, could tell that they did not know what to say to the girl whose flowering life had been coldly trodden upon underfoot into dust and shadow. They called her a brave girl, but took it upon themselves to tell her that they couldn't help anymore. Maybe it just wasn't what they were made and meant for.

There was one tall, thin lady with a dour expression, who called herself Rey's social worker, whatever that meant, and she kept on asking all sorts of questions, such as what age she was and whether she had any close relatives. When she listed Mr. Han and Mrs. Leia as her aunt and uncle, the lady had produced an annoyed grunt of impatience and told her that she was wrong to think that they were related, and she had no relatives who were close. The social worker then demanded Rey get into the car, and when asked why, stated that because she had no family left, she would go into foster care.

That had been a shattering point. "I hate you!" Rey screamed at the woman, before kicking her in the shins. She tried to run away, but the tears finally overtook her and she had sank down onto the sidewalk, clutching at the knapsack that held a photo album, a toothbrush, a comb, and change of clothes, sobbing her heart out.

The woman was unsympathetic as she tucked clawed nails under Rey's arms and bodily hauled her back to the car, tearing her from everything she held dear.

* * *

Unkar Plutt's foster home was a nightmare for almost precisely ten years down to the day. This was due to the fact that most of the kids here were significantly stronger and taller and older than she was, and also the fact that most of the kids weren't here because they were orphaned in car accidents.

Oh, no. They were here because of their sins and their broken families, and every single one of them would find a vent for their wrath and use it to its full extent. Unkar Plutt, the stubby caretaker, either seemed not to care, or sometimes even seemed to join in the taunting with vicious comments thrown at Rey's background or intelligence or worst of all, her dream castles, already eroded from the pain of her parents' deaths.

That was what Rey became by the end of the first week, an outlet for fury. She had her own room, which preserved her integrity somewhat, but nowhere else was safe, not even her sleeping mind, which was occupied with concocting the most humiliating and terrifying scenarios involving her bullies. When she woke, she woke earlier than everyone else and tiptoed downstairs, nabbing a slice of hard bread before everyone else rose and breakfast became a blood sport. When she went anywhere, she tread warily and softly, as if the slightest breath would awaken a dragon in its den.

She had become nothing like the girl from beside the lake that dreamed up dashing lady knights and killing dragons and chasing after orange cats. She had not even been reduced to a whisper of her former self- no, she was nothing but dust and shadow now.

She wondered whether they still thought about her, a vision in their sleep, and whether they remembered her and still cared about her. They had to be looking for her and hoping that their little wayward playmate would find herself back with them, against all odds. The denial would not help her, and every abuse she had faced, every harsh word she endured, wore down her faith in them, little by little. This phantom of a girl, thin and pale and drawn, had faded into a nonperson, for she felt that no one in the world cared for her. And if no one in the entire world cared about you, did you really exist at all?

But meek and quiet and obedient wouldn't do. Unkar Plutt would find fault with her every action, picking apart her very essence as he drilled into her head the fact that she was a waste, unnecessary, and unneeded, then made her repeat those words until she became them, and they were all she was.

Meanwhile, someone had been rummaging through the measly belongings she had brought along. The sleeve of her favorite jacket had been torn, the comb with several teeth snapped off, and the photo album with the cover defiled into some obscene phrase or another. To show her that she had no one, nowhere, and nothing to call her own.

In her mind, the cloud palace, worn by death and grief, began to crumble, and her along with it, but by some ridiculous chance or hope or another, the castle remained standing, however precariously perched upon collapse. Hope was stronger than any threat, and she realized for the first time, as she turned her face towards her unshuttered bedroom window and her breath caught in her throat. For seven years, she had seen no color but cold gray, and now, it was golden and perfect and brought suppressed tears to her eyes, the sunrise.

That delicate flush of pink in the deep violet night sky, followed by the lightest teasing trace of orange, and they pushed back the night with seeping tendrils, bleeding its color into the dark velvet of the night and drawing out golden ribbons behind it, tugging the sun from its hiding niche and into all its glory as the dance concludes, and the sun is left a glorious gold in the sky, the same colors heralding it in now creeping away softly.

That sunrise was what had saved the castle. And so that stubborn spark of defiance remained, though its light was ghostly and weak and could almost be put down to imagination. It just needed kindling and a tiny breath of wind to raise it back from the brink of death.

* * *

The catalyst came on her seventeenth birthday. She had endured for nine years-one more, and she would be out of this hellhole of a foster home, out of the clutches of Plutt and the bullies remaining, and untethered.

She had began making plans to reunite with her family from childhood, the on rebound by love and not blood. Her damaged photo album's cover was discarded and she bought a new one, lovingly dusting off the pages within and changing in new sheet protectors when older ones had frayed at the edges.

So engrossed in this painstaking restoration was she that she had not noticed as Cain, the only tormentor from the first years remaining dropped in the seat beside her, until he tapped her on the shoulder.

Her first thought was that his name fitted him, for he was a monstrous, cowardly, and sadistic boy that could possibly be chalked up to kinslaying. Her second thought was one of anger and frustration, one that did not take kindly to being interrupted.

He smiled and she got a whiff of his breath, something putrid and rotten. Rey wrinkled her nose as she distanced herself from him, crossing her arms. "What do you want, Cain?" She demanded, voice low and even.

Cain parts his fleshy lips to speak. "Why, look, whatcha got there?" He asks, not answering her question but plucking the album from her hands.

"It's mine, which makes it none of your business." She retorts, voice frosty.

"Aw, learn to take a joke, babe." Cain leers, waving the volume tauntingly above his head. "Let's see what this is all about." He opens to a page, turning his bulbous nose upwards and peering at the images.

She reaches for the book, and even though she is tall, the bully towers over her by half a foot at the very least. Rey claws at the bit of his arms she can reach, with an assertive, "That's enough. Give it back".

He ignores her demand. "No, I'm good." Browsing through the pages, he flips to one where she is sitting on a picnic blanket, face smeared in chocolate. "Hey, everyone, look!" He yells, displaying the page to the occupants of the cafeteria. "Wittle Rey likes to eat dog shit!"

Something white and blinding flashes across her vision and she thinks,  _enough,_ before lunging at him and stamping on his toes with all her weight.

He lets out a howl of surprise as he grabs at Rey's hair, the grip snapping her back like a rubber band as she attempts to dart away. With a hiss of pain, she reaches up above and behind her, sinking her fingernails into his sagging skin, taking a tiny bit and then digging her forefinger and thumb's nails into it, all the while thrashing and kicking and aiming for his shin.

Cain growls, reluctantly letting her slip, and as she pivots to face him, raises his other hand, the one that holds the album, and suddenly, Rey sees white in her vision as her head abruptly snaps up at a painful angle.

With a snarl, she rushes back at him in uncoordinated fury, aiming her punches low and ducking under his arms. Her larger opponent roars in challenge and shakes her off just as she begins clambering up his back, still trying to reach for the book, and Rey stumbles back, facing his back, as she gasps for breath.

The golem of a boy plumbers around as she makes the move, rushing at him and jumping up again and climbing up his back. Cain yells as she digs her elbow into the place where neck meets shoulder and reaches behing him, managing a hold onto her shirt and trying to drag his adversary off.

Taking hold of the arm that had clutched at her clothes, Rey grabs tightly onto it with both hands and leaps off his back, jerking the arm until she hears the screams of pain and the sickening crack.

The room goes silent as Cain, racked with sobs, falls piteously to her feet.

"I said, enough." She snaps, wiping at the blood seeping through the cut in her lip as Cain whimpers, cradling his broken arm. She plucks the book from his hand and staggers back to her room.

After all this time, she still had fire left, and now it burned through her veins.


	3. Chances are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _But you always knew that you'd be the one that work while they all play..._  
> 
> -Imagine Dragons, _Warriors_

_The Rey Kenobi of twelve years past was extremely differently from the Rey Kenobi of the present,_ she philosophized over a bowl of cereal as her sleep-mussed head hung over a photo album. In it were pictures of a laughing, freckled girl- _me_ , a boy with wiry black hair- _Finn_ , a boy with dimples that made the whole world coo- _Poe_ , a long-faced and grumpy teenager-  _Ben_ , candid photos of her parents and their friends, and all sorts of serendipitous tidbits of every last event of her life that would even be remotely counted as semi-momentous.

With a shake of her head, she banished the tears that were held in by some reservoir behind her eyes and shoveled the last bite of cereal into her mouth, before snapping the album closed and carrying her things to the sink. Everything in this dingy and communal flat was adjoined- a couch that pulled out to become a bed, a closet with a toilet inside, and the only sink being the one in the kitchen- well, the space in the corner that had a microwave, and that was all the space she had.

As she brushed her hair, she thought about just how much that Rey from twelve years ago still haunted her, looping the hair into three buns. She wasn't willing to admit it, but she had worn her hair like this every day since she had landed in foster care so when she could become reconciled with the ghosts from her past, they would have a spark of recognition in their eyes, because this hairstyle belonged to no one but her.

She wishes, but wishes don't last or come true. Rey doesn't believe in the cloud castles of balmy summer days gone past anymore, though the fire keeps her alive. Rey beholds herself critically in the stained mirror hanging above the sink, squinting at her disorderly appearance and bracing her arms on the edges of the basin. She, Rey Kenobi, will not become a writer or artist or historian or anything else she had wished to be when she was still young and full of light- that was the first lesson she had gotten drilled into her at Unkar Plutt's foster home. She was a minute cog in the machine. Small and insignificant and unrecognizable.

She had to teach herself to be strong and to be defiant again, but two years later, she had realized the bitter truth. She would be nothing more than a minimum wage worker at McDonald's. She could not afford college and thus, she would be stuck there in this station, always in this transitional limbo. At least she had the satisfaction of knowing that most of the bullies in foster care had ended up arrested or in prison.

She grabs her sweatshirt and hurls it over her head, over the wrinkled t shirt that she also wore to bed and a pair of faded and torn jeans, as well as sturdy sneakers beginning to show the wear from walking the mile from her apartment to McDonald's for two years. A fifteen minute-walk later, she is at work, the late night shift just about to transfer with her day shift at the twenty-four hours joint.

She could have sworn that line in the Christmas carol that goes " _all is calm, all is bright_ " could be about her workplace right now as she steps into the kitchen, sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor as she hastily shuts the door to ward off the chill of the impending winter. She blinks twice, trying to adjust her eyes to the harsh glare of the utilitarian lights which she could never get used to, and surveys the relative peace and quiet that reigns. The breakfast rush hasn't started yet, and the orders come in at a leisurely pace.

Nothing she can't handle, except for this infernal white noise- hubbub and bustle and chatter, but she feels isolated by it- a lone island in this sea of activity. None of the workers are particularly good of a friend and she doesn't feel so inclined to be one. But after two years, this monotony and this loneliness starts to feel as if it will drive her mad.

Breakfast comes and goes, robotically and just the same as every other day, and her throat is hoarse from the artificial greetings, her face muscles hurting from forcing a smile by the time she's gearing herself up for the lunch rush.

At eleven, the door opens. An event that was within the confines of normalcy, she paid it no mind at first- after all, many people come by at this hour to get a bit ahead of the lunch lines that would plague fast food joints all over town within a half hour.

He had parked his motorcycle in front, before making his way in, removing his helmet to reveal impossibly soft and perfectly tousled hair. She watched him as he sauntered up to the counter, no line barring his way, with rapt attention. Rey blushed and swallowed as he approaches her, and now, she knows without doubt that he is absolutely an angel come from down on high. Those smoldering but innocent eyes and the dimples in his cheeks and the glitter in his smile affirms this to be true. She clears her throat at the handsome stranger, who seems to be gawking- no, not at her, no one ever pays her any mind, and his chocolate brown eyes probably stare right through the plain, freckled girl at the counter. To get his attention, she clears her throat.

"Hello, may I take your order?" Rey says, definition of self-control as she fights the stutter arising that seemed to be the unfortunate side effect to being around attractive people.

He actually looks at her, as if she had just grabbed him by the shoulders and given him a good solid shake, and their mutual surprise is reflected in their eyes along with something else- she doesn't know, but he nods understandingly and glances up at the menu above her head and she gets the smallest feeling of deja vu, the shared moment of looking into each other's eyes, and she feels as if she was transported back to childhood.

 _Stop that,_ she chides herself, gripping onto her side if the counter until her knuckles turn white. She's seen those eyes before, but now is not the time to muse over such things.

He smiles, and she is again struck by how much  _history_ he holds, and she would have assumed that she was the same way for him, a ghost of another time or another life, but she knows that he is definitely not some kind angel from her tormented adolescence.

"Yeah, I'll just have a Big Mac and small fries with a small drink." He says, peering at her intently.

She nods, wide-eyed mortification on her face as he studies her. "Er, that will be $5.89." Rey says in a voice that was far too soft when compared to normally.

With a little more fumbling than usual, she accepts his credit card and swipes it, before handing it back by sliding it across the counter to avoid revealing how unsteady her hands had become.

She did not interact with him again, and he leaves with a "thank you" and the paper bag, and a childishly friendly wave goodbye.

Rey rips out the copy of the receipt from the machine, and the name at the top prompts her to nearly drop the slip of paper. The neat and printed, if somewhat faded pale letters spelled out a name from before her years of hatred and pain, from the days when everyone would have a happily ever after.

Poe Dameron.

* * *

He had driven back to the campus to eat, just as the clock struck twelve and the students begin to pour out of the buildings in hordes and flocks, all pressing for the café or their cars.

Leaning against the motorcycle, he opened up the sandwich bag, contemplating the contents inside.

The girl at the McDonald's, he knew her from somewhere and she knew him. A class? He didn't think so, the level of recognition in her eyes was so much more than what meeting a passing acquaintance would encompass. Yes, it couldn't have been from a class, and no, he definitely knew her.

Poe shrugged and lifted the burger out of the box, before laying the carton to the side and taking a bite. Ah, yes. The taste of artificial additives and more calories than was needed for a day. Even knowing perfectly well the hazards of the food he was consuming, it was gone in a few minutes, as were the fries and soda.

He crumpled the cup and the boxes into a ball, then stuffs it inside the paper bag. Poe is just about to throw the entire package away when the receipt stapled to the top of the bag startled him into nonaction.

Rubbing his eyes before taking a second inspection of the slip of paper, he nearly exclaims out of sheer shock.

No wonder, then, that the girl serving him had such vaguely familiar eyes that were clouded by tragedy. No wonder she caught him so off guard with her inquisitive looks and the recognition in her eyes. No wonder she sounded so disappointed and so resigned when he had left with nothing but a generic wave in her general direction. No wonder at all.

The first high-risk behavior he had engaged in today was eat McDonald's. The second will be this- Poe hops onto his motorcycle, hastily strapping his helmet back into his head.

The boy kicks up speed, and to the chagrin of the townspeople, ignores all traffic regulations as he speeds towards the fast food joint in mind, and barely has his bike parked up front before swinging off, rushing inside, and pushing through the mob to get a clear view of the front counter-where she wasn't there.

A name that had been forming on his lips froze and dissolved into ashes.

Rey.


	4. Convergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Home is where you go to find solace from the ever changing chaos, to find love within the confines of a heartless world, and to be reminded that no matter how far you wander, there will always be something waiting when you return.”_
> 
> -Kendal Rob

"You will not believe this." Poe says, a few days later, no prelude, as he sits down at the table Finn has saved for them. He hangs his leather jacket on the back of the chair before leaning forward towards his friend.

"Believe what?" Finn questions, genuinely curious for once. He looks up from his cup of coffee, ignoring the clamor of Starbucks as he all but literally perks up.

"I ran into Rey the other day."

The cup of whatever fancy stuff that was that cost Finn several bucks had fallen to the table with a _clack_ , Finn's jeans narrowly escaping being coated with the stuff by Poe's almost precognitive instinct, rescuing the paper cup. "You're kidding." Finn gasps, eyes agog.

A shake of Poe's head before he takes a sip of the contents of Finn's cup. "No. I'm serious."

Finn puts his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. "How is she?" he asks, voice small.

"Still a spitfire." Poe responds vaguely, an expansive gesture with the half-empty cup to accentuate the fact that this was merely a guess.

"I mean, _how is she_?" Finn's voice grows more insistent as he looks up, and his eyes are a new type of determined. "How does she look, how she's getting along, and all that."

"Er...." Poe scratches the back of his neck. "I didn't realize it was her until..."

"Oh, my god. This is too complicated." Finn mutters, recovering the cup from Poe and going bottoms-up on it. Not the same effect as alcohol, of course, but you gotta take what you have.

"She works at McDonald's now." Poe volunteers, watching his friend for his reaction.

Finn spits out the coffee, and Poe makes a mental note to stop sharing that cup with him and get his own personal one. "Oh, Rey." He sighs, eyes sad as he stares into the brown liquid. "Oh, Rey."

Poe's hand moves to cover Finn's and maintains a steady and comforting grip on his. "I know."

They sit in tense and contemplative silence as the hubbub of the coffee shop rushes by like wateflowing from between one's fingers. Finn is the first to break, and he blurts, "We should go see her."

Poe starts, puppy-like eyes wide as he looks up from their entwined fingers to Finn's face. "Finn, no." He breathes, the skin between his eyebrows puckering.

"Why not?" The dark-skinned boy pressed, relentless in his conviction. "She'll want to see us. It's been twelve years."

"Exactly!" Poe jabs a finger into the air, nearly startling Jessika, their classmate, who at the moment was casually strolling past and chatting with Connix, into spilling her drink over them. "Sorry, Jess." he says apologetically, earning him a look of amused desperation from the girls, before he turns back to Finn. "It's been twelve years. Who's to say she still recognizes us?"

"Oh, she will." Finn replies mutinously. "I know it." Without further ado, he stands, gulping down the now-lukewarm contents of his cup before pushing the chair back in and leaving, dropping his cup into the trash in the most I-don't-give-a-fuck way he could muster, not even looking back at his friend.

Poe sighs as he gazes, unseeing, at the blank space that Finn had occupied mere moments before. He had sat there, staring awkwardly at air, for quite some time- several minutes, if not more, and was only jolted back to the present by the accidental brush of contact whereupon Snap Wexley, another of his acquainted friends, bumped into his chair.

"Sorry, man." Snap had apologized with profuse fluster, to which Poe had brushed off with a customary and mundane response. He was aware that Snap was probably wondering what was making him so absentminded today, but he had simply hitched his jacket off of the back of his seat, pushed his chair in, and left, making beeline for his motorcycle.

Sure enough, not before he had gone two blocks towards the ship did he spot Finn. The latter glanced at Poe with inquisitive but stubborn eyes as he idled the motorcycle next to the curb. "You're not convincing me not to go." Finn retorts, crossing his arms over his chest.

Poe grins at his reaction. "No, of course not." He replies, removing his helmet and tossing it to Finn. "Get on, loser. We're going to McDonald's."

The boy fumbles a bit with the catch, then cradles the helmet with a mix of surprise and criticism. "Well, here goes." He sighs, lowering it over his head. "I hope that for one, you don't have lice, and for two, it'll turn out all right."

"Come on, Finn. You were the one to be so admant about going in the first place." Poe teased as Finn swings his legs over the motorcycle and seats himself behind Poe, gripping onto this friend's waist. "Ready?"

Finn gulps visibly at that, as Poe was notorious not only for his amicable nature but also his daredevil driving tactics. "Just don't end up sending us to the hospital when we should be at McDonald's." He responds.

The dimples on Poe's cheeks are evident as he turns his head to grin at Finn. "No promises. But I'll try for your sake."

Finn's reply is drowned out by the sound of the motor revving as they make their way down the streets at a modest pace, much to the relief of Finn and the antsiness of Poe. Even when Poe had groaned internally at the pace they were travelling- equivalent to that of an old man, according to him- it was only about ten minutes, maximum, to reach the place Rey worked.

They dismount, Finn removing the helmet, and the two friends stare at each other with a curious sort of anticipation as they still for a moment, because this was it.

After twelve years of feeling like their hearts had been deprived of a puzzle piece so integral in their lives, they would finally find it- three friends and siblings by love would be reconciled.

* * *

Rey has been working from seven to five, and now, it is time to go home with a bag of the same food she served daily and ate because it was cheap. She would curl up on the bed- well, cot, really- and read a bit before falling asleep. Maybe she would wonder about her chance encounter with Poe, as she had for many nights since she had met him again.

Maybe she would have recognized him in that alternate reality. Maybe they would find her past again, and maybe she would be able to reconcile with them- all of them. Maybe she would find herself with friends again, with family again.

The truth was either painful or boring, and this was the former. She made her peace with it; that did not mean it would not grate against her conscience and heart. There was little to no chance Poe recognized her, and she knew it and accepted it. But it still hurt to think of herself, forgotten and nothing but a whisper and a ghost in the memory of one of her best friends. 

She hands a customer her order, wishing them a nice day, before she notices, over the departing woman's shoulder, Poe and an oh-so-familiar-looking dark-skinned boy standing outside. With a glance towards the kitchen, she pushes open the side door that led to the dining area, and makes her towards them.

Whether he recognizes her or not, she has to try and connect to him and close the chapter of her past so she could start writing the one about her present. She has to let him know who she was to him, he deserved to know.

At the exact moment that she reaches the carpet in front of the door, the two glance towards her and their faces break out into the brightest smiles she has ever seen in her life. Recognition. Excitement. And most of all, love written on their faces as they practically make a mad dash for the doors.

It's fitting, then, that the converging and closing of ends takes place in the door way- the threshold, between two places that held different significance for them and mostly for her.

"Rey." The dark-skinned boy speaks first, voice thick with enotion as the three of them cross the distance spanning twelve years with gaze alone. "It's us. Finn. Poe."

They say that home is where heart is, and her heart was with her brothers by love; always. And now, both of them were standing across from her at the dingy fast-food joint where she was working, overwhelming the artificial lights with the light of their love for her.

She was home. At long last, she was home.

With a sob, Rey allows herself to fall into their embrace.


End file.
